The tropical paradise of the Maldives, reputedly one of the world’s top dive sites, may be lost in 50 years due to global warming. We recommend that you get there before it’s too late.

The air stewardess on the flight from Gatwick to Male, the capital of the Maldives had just finished going through the air safety regulations when she began passing out plastic bags.

The passengers stopped reading their newspapers and suddenly took note. A night flight with a stopover in Abu Dhabi was enough of an ordeal, but the thought of major turbulence requiring more than the paper bag from the seat pocket in front was not good news.

Then came the explanation. “The Maldives has a very strict policy of environmental conservation. We don’t want you to leave any rubbish behind, so please use the eco-bag provided by your tour operator for any non-biodegradable waste like shampoo bottles, coke cans and used razor blades that you may acquire during your holiday and make sure you bring it back to the UK.”

The mind boggled at the thought of the detritus that would be carried back to the UK, but this was good news to us who were off to the Maldives for a spot of Indian Ocean diving. It seemed to justify the publicity that the Maldives were a tropical paradise, with pristine seas and zero pollution.

The stop in the transit hall at Abu Dhabi, fantastically shaped like a Bedouin tent, gave me the chance to buy a disposable underwater camera. In the end I didn’t use it, swapping it later for a wooden, brilliantly painted angel fish that now graces the kitchen window. It seemed a good idea at the time.

A group of us were off to the Maldives for a week in what are said to be the best diving waters in the world. We had all done some snorkelling and a bit of scuba practice in the local leisure centre, but apart from that were totally inexperienced divers. The Maldives seemed a good place to start.

We were met in the blistering heat of Male International Airport by Anita, our holiday rep, who took us to the wharf and onto a dhoni, the local fishing vessel made from the planks of coconut palms, which would take us to the “Atoll Explorer”, our floating home for the next two nights.

“A word of warning,” she said. “Watch out for ‘snorklers’ back. We’re only four degrees north of the equator, so the sun is almost vertical. A Russian medical student went for a half-hour snorkel without a t-shirt on during his first day last week and spent the next three days in hospital.”

She then gave us a quick run-down on the Maldives, which she pronounced “Maul-deeve”, explaining that they are a chain of more than 1000 coral islands grouped in atolls stretching 400 miles across the equator south-west of Sri Lanka.

Atolls — the word derives from the Maldivian “atola” — are coral outcrops that have evolved on the submerged peaks of a volcanic mountain range.

Barrier reefs protect the lagoons that form in each of the atolls, giving them brilliant white coral-sand beaches and crystal clear water, well protected from the annual monsoons.

Rated as one of the best diving spots in the world, visibility underwater can be as high as 60 metres and rarely below 30 metres. We were to explore this underworld paradise from the decks of the “Atoll Explorer”, a small, state-of-the-art cruise ship with a diving school on board.

Inside my cabin was a sign warning against the use of detergents on towels. Like the eco-bag, this was another way of ensuring the crystal clear waters stayed that way.
The next morning the pony-tailed captain introduced us to Stella, the dive master. In an earlier life she'd managed a hairdressing salon but had given it up to roam around the world’s great diving spots — the Caribbean, Australia’s Barrier Reef and the Red Sea — before ending up as a qualified Eurodiver instructor in the Maldives. The next morning Stella took us through the first stages of the PADI (Professional Association of Diving Instructors) Open Water Certificate Course, the pre-requisite to scuba diving in these waters.

This involved watching a video, discussion and then a written test on the intricacies of BCD’s (Buoyancy Control Devices), depth and tank pressure gauges, weight belts and dive computers. To someone who thought that scuba diving was the same as snorkelling, but with a couple of tanks on your back, this was a revelation and quite terrifying.

Whe we were ready for our first practice dive Stella took us aboard a dhoni and headed for a nearby island. As we approached the shore of the lagoon I was horrified to see a group of triangular fins skimming across the water.

“Don’t worry,” said Stella. “They’re only baby black-tipped sharks. Anyway, sharks are never a problem for divers in these waters. There’s too much else for them to eat.”

The waters of the Maldives are warm, but you still need a wetsuit for comfort. So after kitting up and pairing off with our dive buddies we began our first dive in 15 feet of water, notwithstanding the black-tips. All went well until the terrifying moment when you have to take off your breathing apparatus and fill your mask with water, just for the experience of getting yourself out of a potentially life-threatening situation.

Next day we were ready for our first “proper” dive on the outer edges of the reef. The water was so clear that you could see the fantastic array of coral for many metres below; staghorn coral, brain coral, stack coral and plate coral, all sprouting brilliantly coloured flora.

Soon we were swimming through valleys, arches and caves and across plateaus and plains, along with brilliantly coloured fish, strange sea cucumbers, anenomes and giant manta rays.

There are more than 700 species of fish in the Indian Ocean and most are to be found around the Maldives, which has three-quarters of the world’s reef fish species.
To help identify them I carried a plastic sheet of names and coloured pictures of the most common species of snapper, butterfly fish, sweetlips, angel fish, parrot fish and puffer fish, which I mentally ticked off as I saw them.

Once you get the hang of slowly ascending and descending and how to breathe — that is, normally and never holding your breath — it all becomes quite easy. But my ears never allowed me to go below 30 feet and I found myself getting the odd twinge of panic at the thought of having so far to go to the surface if anything went wrong. And there was always the thought, as Stella had warned, that you could blow your fillings out if the pressure becomes too much.

But the fillings remained intact and we went on to a couple of island resorts for more diving and snorkelling, night-fishing, windsurfing and soaking up the sun. The Maldives fulfil every fantasy that keeps us going through a British winter — palm-fringed lagoons and jade, turquoise and azure waters. There are no crowds and, apart form the capital, Male, no roads and no traffic. Because the government has a policy of only allowing tourism to develop on uninhabited atolls, there is no crime and no harassment on the beaches, all of which are private. There are no newspapers and the hotel bars are built on the sand, serving exotic cocktails in coconut husks decorated with orchids, frangipani, hibiscus or bougainvillaea flowers.

But life in a tropical paradise cannot last forever. In far too short a time we were back on the plane to Gatwick, clutching our well-filled eco-bags. They say that rising oceans caused by the greenhouse effect will sink the Maldives within 50 years. Get there while you can.

FACT FILE

When to go: The north east monsoon lasts from early December to late March and marks the high season with high prices. The wetter south west monsoon, late April to late October, brings storms and winds but is a lot cheaper.

Diving Gear: Every resort has its own diving school, where you can rent all the equipment and take an approved diving course. The Padi Open Water Course for Beginners, including equipment and five lagoon and four boat dives, starts from $US280.